Summon forth
the High Priestess in loud voices
of woman_courage!
Metamorphosis:
The blood_river flows between
the shifting shapes of dawn and dusk.
Light shines within dark,
as energy spins the seed
of the inner_eye.
Be gone, my soul drain!
Be gone,
cacophonous litany of negatives!
I sing of wisdom,
blessing each breath of life,
birthing my being into voice.
Whispered, my words echo
in the darkness of my soul;
Where am I?
What am I?
Fingering the context of this plastic form,
the clay is earth_glowing,
transcending in flight from
prisons of inflexibility.
In these tears I taste
the salt,
the sweet,
the sour,
the bitter.
All my broken parts embraced;
Transformation requires
no blood_sacrifice.